


Close Quarters / Trust

by Tyler_Blackwing



Series: Merlin: Close Quarters [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angry Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arthur Finds Out About Merlin’s Magic (Merlin), Friendship, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Locked In, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin is a Little Shit, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Not Beta Read, Quests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyler_Blackwing/pseuds/Tyler_Blackwing
Summary: Usually, when saving Arthur's life, he was careful enough to not quite get caught. Basically staring into the king's face while doing so might not have been his best idea.“Right”, Merlin mumbled with a hesitant glance toward his king, his voice strained and shaky with the fruitless effort to sound silly. “I, uh. Wanted to tell you for a while.”* Meant to be a continuation piece to "Close Quarters / Faith", so I'd recommend reading that one beforehand, but it can stand on its own.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin: Close Quarters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596565
Comments: 13
Kudos: 319





	Close Quarters / Trust

**Author's Note:**

> My second fanfic in the series, also a continuation of Close Quarters / Faith. Please give it a try! I'm happy to receive some feedback. Enjoy!

How on earth had he gotten himself into this kind of situation - again? Locked into some dark room of some mysterious, abandoned castle, with way too little space between himself and his prince… his king, for that matter, who had but weeks ago lost his father. His king, whose stare now bore holes through his shoulder blades. His king… who had just found out his biggest, best kept secret.

_They were fighting back to back, which meant that he’d had some cover to help himself out with a bit of magic - yes, stupid. He was aware. Then he took a blow. Willingly took it, just slightly adjusted so it wouldn’t kill him, because he’d felt Arthur turning his way to yet again check up on him._

Couldn’t that royal idiot just let him fend for himself?

_He flinched when the sword cut into his side, ripping through skin, but then sword and man fell by the king’s blow. When he looked at Arthur, there was another bandit wielding an axe. Too close to his king already. He didn’t think. He didn’t even act as far as he was concerned - it was as if every fiber of his being just defied his carefully built countenance in order to protect Arthur no matter what. And before he knew it his hand stretched out towards the weapon, his magic made his blood boil - and the rogue froze, axe mere inches from Arthur’s neck._

_For a second, Merlin hoped he’d stopped time for the whole room. He didn’t dare look at Arthur. He heard people breathing. Moving. The rest of the bandits stood not immobilized but in shock, staring at him and slowly tightening the grip on their weapons. And he felt his face burn under Arthur’s stare, his fingers shake when he lowered his hand._

_“Right”, Merlin mumbled with a hesitant glance toward his king, his voice strained and shaky with the fruitless effort to sound silly. “I, uh. Wanted to tell you for a while.”_

Arthur hadn’t responded then. He’d glanced at the axe hovering over his shoulder, spun around and swung his sword past Merlin to kill the guy, who’d broken down when Merlin released his magical grip on him. He’d fought the rest of the confused bandits in wild rage, never fully turning away from his servant. When the men had been beaten, their eyes had locked again, and Merlin had nearly cried.

Under different circumstances, Arthur might have called him a girl again. He knew that he was being too emotional, but the rage and the disappointment in Arthur’s eyes were usually not directed at him, and if they were, an obvious doubt lay in them, as if he was looking for someone behind a plot to get Merlin killed. This time, however, it was real.  
Arthur had not only seen magic being used, he’d seen HIM use magic. Undeniably, unmistakably. There was no getting out of this.

The silence was killing him. He felt Arthur wanting to speak. To shout, even, but they were hoping not to be found until daybreak so he stayed quiet. Merlin didn’t even see the door he was facing through the wetness of his eyes, and every sound had him on the edge.

“Don’t even look at me right now”, Arthur had said when they’d locked the door to this room and he’d tried to start explaining. He’d been waved off, told to look away. So in a pledge of good faith he had turned towards the door, his back to his king, submissive to any punishment including death, if Arthur saw fit. He hardly dared to feel relieved when the pacing behind him stopped and Arthur sat down on the floor. Watching his back. Again, a stretch of silence filled the room and when the king finally drew a meaningful breath, Merlin practically froze.

“That. Out there. It was magic.”

Merlin swallowed hard, hoping his voice would not crack. “Yes.”

“You. Have magic.”

“Yes. --- Sire.” The word was pressed out weakly, but it felt as if he ought to address him formally. He was loyal. He’d never hurt Arthur. Did he see that?

“You have been practicing _sorcery_ in Camelot - “

“I was born with it, Sire, and -”

“Don’t ‘ _Sire_ ’ me, Merlin, I’m mad enough as it is! You’re a _sorcerer_! And in all those years, you didn’t care to tell me!”

Merlin couldn’t help a small sob escaping his lips. “My magic had to be kept a secret, Arthur. I wanted to tell you, I really did…”

“Yeah, but you didn’t.”

The harshness in this statement hit hard, and his shoulders sacked considerably. His tears spilled freely now, still unseen by his king, but betrayed by the broken sounds shaking his body.

“Out of all people, Merlin, you’d be the last I’d expect to betray me.”

“ _I didn’t!_ ”

He hastily ducked his head in case of an outburst, but this was not a conversation he would have without looking into his friend’s face. Very slowly, he turned, his eyes still cast down, and he raised his gaze only when he was kneeling facing Arthur again. There was doubt in his king’s eyes, disappointment, but a reserved curiosity battling with his set jaw. Merlin didn’t even try to stop his tears.

“I used it for you, Arthur - I only ever used it for you.” A sad smile washed over his lips when he spoke, and Arthur looked puzzled for a second, seeing how earnest he was. “You are destined to be the greatest king to ever rule Camelot. And I will protect you as I have from the beginning, if you let me.”

Arthur scoffed. “Protect me! I can protect myself, Merlin, I don’t need a lying sorcerer by my side! Getting my father to employ you as my personal servant, getting me to - hardly _anyone_ has ever been closer to me, a fine plan indeed!”

Merlin sobbed quietly, bowing his head, his tears dropping onto his hands, which in turn clutched the hem of his shirt. Still, a laugh bubbled up in his throat.

“You have the _nerve_ -”

“Sorry! Sorry, I-” Sniffling, he wiped his face with his sleeve, a small smile crinkling the corners of his eyes when he looked up to meet Arthur’s again. “I never _planned_ on becoming your servant. Really, I came to Camelot to live with Gaius and learn from him. I stood up to a prat, and unfortunately he was a royal one. I have _no_ idea how I came into the stupid situation to save his life and end up _dressing_ him.”

Despite himself, Arthur rolled his eyes. Merlin saw the irritated look on his face before he noticed and shifted it back to a glare.

“But you said something about…”

“Destiny, yes… There’s a prophecy. I learned of it after I became your servant. I didn’t want to believe it, an ass like you being that great king. Still, I had no choice but to stay.”

“Why on earth not. Your entire existence is illegal in Camelot.”

“Because of you.” Merlin realized he had stopped crying, maybe because the cruel silence had passed. Maybe because Arthur finally looked at him again, and actually seemed to listen. “I didn’t expect it. But I saw it in you. The king you could become, if only you were allowed to make your own decisions.”

“I might have to decide to burn you at the stake”, Arthur intervened flatly.

“Ah, you couldn’t go through with it.”

“Stop getting sappy, I’m angry at you.”

He would never understand how he gathered the nerve to manage a nervous, but cheeky smile. “Never stopped you from saving my life before yelling.”

“Merlin, you-” Arthur stopped and stared at him, looking him up and down with a frown etched into his face.

“Out of angry things to say?” Merlin laughed and it came out a bit breathy, granted he did feel light-headed, and cold, but there were more important things than that.

“You idiot are bleeding. For heaven’s sake, Merlin, how can you have _magic_ and not manage to take care of yourself?!”

With a sigh, Merlin pulled off his scarf and pressed it to the wound on his side, which he had almost forgotten thanks to the shock of Arthur finding out about him.

“Didn’t want to use too much of it in front of you unless absolutely necessary. I diverted the blow a bit.”

“... heal it.”

Now it was Merlin who stared. “What.”

“ _Heal it_. If you can. With your magic. Let’s see some.”

“You’re kidding. It’s forbidden.”

“I am not kidding and I’m ordering you to. Can you heal it?”

Hesitantly, Merlin looked around, then back to his king, creased his forehead, then nodded.

“Might’ve learned a spell or two for when you’re wounded and unconscious…”

Arthur gave an incredulous laugh. “Born with it”, he breathed and there was venom in his tone. “You are _studying_ it, have been, all this time. Learning.”

A stretch of silence followed, Merlin just looking. His eyes still hurt from crying, but he didn’t dare to look away - this was what he deserved, and what he owed to his king: Honesty, loyalty, a chance to prove himself. He wasn’t afraid of death any more - but he hoped that he was right and Arthur would not go that far. Not against him.

The king raised his brows.

“Go ahead.”

Merlin let his scarf peel off the wound, cradling the abused skin in his palms. His gaze never left Arthur’s while he let a spell fall from his lips. He thought he saw a rare, astonished look in the blue eyes he knew so well, but he got distracted - a warm, gentle light spread through his body, prickling in the rims of his wound, and after a blink he examined the patch of skin which looked merely as if burned by hot water a few days ago.

“Good. Now at least you won’t bleed out while you sleep.”

“Sleep! How could I-”

“Be quiet, Merlin. Get some rest.”

“I’ve been quiet for too long.”

“ _Mer_ lin.”

He did sound exasperated, so Merlin swallowed the remark that lay on his tongue. Fine. Knowing Arthur, he probably needed a moment to adjust. Or two. But knowing Arthur, he might also take the whole night, watching him so ‘ _the sorcerer_ ’ wouldn’t try funny things.  
Merlin ducked his head and rolled onto his side, near the wall of this dusty old room, listening closely for Arthur’s every move. His breathing was so calm that it could just be another night on a quest. As if he could sleep like this.

He didn’t know how long it took until the king flopped down near him, probably getting comfortable with his arms crossed behind his head. A drawn-out sigh.

“You’re not sleeping.”

“Can’t.”

“I’m not… going to kill you, you know.”

“If your father were still alive, you’d have to.”

“... I think I… wouldn’t have told him.”

Merlin smiled a bit at that. “You’d have had to. Or you would’ve sent me away. Not an option.”

“Because of destiny.”

“Yes.” Arthur was silent. “... also, because you’re a spoiled prat and can’t take care of yourself.”

He could almost hear his friend fight a grin.

“I said once”, the king started carefully. “That it might not be evil. That I thought… it might not be magic that corrupted people. Yet when Morgause had shown me my mother…”

Merlin turned onto his back. “It hurt. It almost killed me to use your father’s reasoning to get you to spare his life. But...” His voice was thick with tears again, and he noticed Arthur glancing over, but there was no teasing about it. There was just a gentle, understanding hum.

“I still caused his death, though. Calling in that sorcerer to heal him.”

“Stop. Stop blaming that on yourself - it was Morgana’s doing, Arthur. A cursed amulet, reversing any healing spells. It wasn’t supposed to happen, I-...” Merlin sobbed, pressed his hand to his mouth, and he was almost sure Arthur knew what he was trying to say, because when the king continued, his voice had grown a smidge colder.

“... Your friend, Will?”

“Not a sorcerer. He knew about me, he was dying, and he wanted to protect me so I could stay by your side. I wanted to tell you, then. So many times before that, too.”

“Before the battle, in your mother’s house.”

“It was so close, that time, but we got interrupted.” Merlin gave a sad smile, and looked over to Arthur before returning his gaze to the ceiling. “Everyone kept telling me I needed to keep it a secret. All the time - I just wanted to do good. To help! To make you see that magic can be good, if used for the right cause. To protect my friends, and-”

His tears kept getting caught in the curves of his ears, the way he was lying here.

“I’m sorry. I made so many mistakes, there were so many prophecies, with everyone telling me what to do and what not to, whom to kill and whom to save…- I’m sorry I broke your trust like this, Arthur. But I meant it - my magic, I used it for you all this time, more often than you might imagine.”

“You’re an idiot.” A heavy hand landed on Merlin’s head, ruffled his hair - not quite certain of it, the touch was less rough than usual, but then Arthur reached for his arm and pulled him over.

Both of them were lying on their sides now, facing each other, and Merlin needed a while until he could bring himself to meet Arthur’s gaze. For once, the king was patient and waited, and it took a bit of sniffling and a good rub of his sleeves against his face before he felt ready. Their eyes locked, and both of them seemed to be searching for some kind of reassurance. It was dark, but not too dark to see… there was a strange glow to the clouds, shimmering through the windows. Arthur waited for another second, then he seemed to give him a lopsided smile. Merlin couldn’t believe it.

“You keep surprising me, Merlin. And somehow everything is starting to make sense… How I haven’t noticed is beyond me, because really, you are terrible at lying and sneaking, but I get now why you understood so well when I was questioning my duty… Say - did you _ever_ do anything because you wanted to?”

Merlin laughed in spite of himself. “What now, are we talking feelings, Sire?”

“Be serious for once, will you.” He grabbed Merlin’s shoulder, stared at him. “I am, at least. Nothing - I repeat, _nothing_ about this quest need ever be spoken of again. You know I am a man of my word-”

“Dying for you.” Merlin stared straight ahead into Arthur’s eyes, his jaw set and serious. “Not each time, mind you. Mostly you were being stupid and careless. But I didn’t lie then - I’m happy to serve you until my dying day, if you believe it or not.”

Arthur seemed speechless for a second, but recovered quickly. After all, it wasn't the first time Merlin stated this obvious fact, and he'd had a couple of supposed 'dying days' already.

“I believe you.” His gaze flitted uncomfortably around Merlin, who just smiled weakly. The king sighed. Then he turned over - completely, his back to the sorcerer he had accused of having betrayed him.

Merlin stared at the chain mail glimmering in the faint light. His back, to him. Before he could finish deciphering the meaning of this gesture, Arthur spoke again, his voice quiet and earnest.

“I _am_ angry about this, Merlin. And I have many more questions - I need to know what… you did. What happened. But still… hardly anyone was ever as loyal to me as you have been. And I refuse to believe that your being a - a sorcerer … changes anything about this. Because if it did… you wouldn’t have gone through all of this with the power you seem to wield.”

Merlin remembered a time when they had been locked in like this, and he carefully scooted closer daring to lean his forehead against Arthur’s shoulder blade, just as the king had done when he’d still been a prince.

“ _Mer_ -”

“Ssh. You were being so nice, don’t spoil it.”

“Not a _word_ of this can leave these walls.”

“Well _I’m_ not telling anyone, you can believe that.”

A deep sigh let the chain mail rattle against the ground. “God, you’re annoying.”

It took Arthur a while to talk again, so long that Merlin almost drifted off to sleep.

“I trust you, Merlin. With my life. And I am… grateful… that I may call you a friend.”

“Who said you may?”

Arthur gave a puzzled grunt. “I beg your pardon?!”

Merlin chuckled. “Then beg.” His hand carefully patted the king’s arm while his forehead pressed into the finely woven slowly warming metal.  
“Sorry. I… thank you. Thank you, Arthur. You have _no idea_ …”

“You’re crying again, aren’t you. You’re such a _girl_ , Merlin.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m your king, you can’t just tell me to shut up like this.”

“Oh, my apologies.” Merlin grinned against his king's back, his heart as light as it hadn’t been for years. “Kindly shut up, _my lord_.”


End file.
